


if you wanted me

by ToAStranger



Series: Luster [9]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Cock Rings, Edgeplay, M/M, Multi, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Werewolf Courting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-04-22
Packaged: 2018-03-25 05:08:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3797908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToAStranger/pseuds/ToAStranger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles seeks penance for his transgressions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	if you wanted me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rrrowr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rrrowr/gifts).



> Prompt: Maaaaybe Stiles should make amends to Peter and Deucalion by letting them take advantage of him for a set amount of time. A blank slate for them to ask for whatever they want. (And frankly, I would pay cash money for orgasm denial.)

“What in the world is this?”  Deucalion asks. 

Stiles is half naked, sitting on Peter’s couch in nothing but his boxers.  He’s shaking as he fidgets with the upholstery beneath him.  Peter’s grin is lopsided as he looks over at where Deucalion is hovering in the doorway. 

“Stiles wants to make things up to us,” Peter says.  “For taking advantage of the courtship.”

Deucalion blinks, padding forward slowly.  “By what?  Giving us a peep show?”

“Something like that,” Peter replies.   

Stiles’ cheeks burn as he glances between them.  As Deucalion walks towards them, he sheds out of his coat and stops at the coffee table. 

He takes a seat next to Peter across from Stiles in the matching wingbacks.  Crossing one leg over the other, he clears his throat and Peter holds up a hand before he can speak.  Smile warm, Peter never takes his eyes off of Stiles.

“What are you offering again, sweet boy?”  Peter asks.

Stiles frowns at him.  “You already know.”

“I just want to hear you say it again,” Peter grins.

“For the next twelve hours, you can ask me anything you want and do anything you want to me or with me—within certain parameters.”  Stiles rolls his eyes, but it’s fond. 

Deucalion’s eyes drift down over the pale skin on display.  “And the parameters?”

“I must consent to any and all sexual intimacies,” Stiles says.  “Verbally, with a firm affirmation.”

“And you’re sitting here in your underwear because…?”

“Because that was one of Peter’s requests.”  Stiles says, giving Peter a dry look.  “He likes to look at me.”

“Well, he isn’t alone in that regard,” Deucalion breathes.  “So… anything?”

Stiles swallows thickly.

* * *

Deucalion’s mouth is hot at his neck, lips hovering over the pounding of Stiles’ pulse.  Eyes dazed, Stiles pants heavily and open-mouthed, leaning back against him in blind trust.  There is a flush to his skin, the smell of Stiles’ arousal and sweat like an aphrodisiac, thick in Peter’s bedroom.  Deucalion holds Stiles to his chest, palm over his heart, as Peter thoroughly works Stiles over.

After playing twenty questions for what seemed like forever, they ended up taking a more physical advantage of the opportunity Stiles presented to them.  Deucalion was delighted to find Peter on the same page as him as they coaxed Stiles into the bedroom.  There, they finished stripping him and then laid him out.  There were kisses, lingering touches, Stiles’ body pressed between theirs—and then Peter had suggested playing a bit. 

“I’m tempted to keep you like this forever,” Peter mutters from where he’s on his knees at the end of the bed, two fingers curled just right, deep in the heat of Stiles’ body. 

There’s a ring around Stiles’ cock, right at the base of him, keeping him hanging on the edge of completion but unable to reach that final step.  He sobs out a soft sound, trembling, and Deucalion mutters soothing praise in his ear as Peter kisses his hip. 

“I won’t,” Peter promises.  “But it’s tempting.   _You’re_  tempting.”

“ _Please—_ “ Stiles hitches, hips jerking, and Peter presses a firm hand down to keep him pinned as he slicks him open—the both of them watching Stiles writhe.  “Please, I— _ah, Peter, please_.”

“Please, what?” Peter smiles, eyes catching with Deucalion’s for a moment, and the other wolf returns the expression.  “Do you want more?”

He eases in a third finger and Stiles claws at the sheets, moaning as the stretch has pressure building in his stomach.  Arching, Stiles lets out a little hiccup of a sound, desperate tears burning at his eyes.  Deucalion kisses his temple lingeringly, gently, and traces soothing figures over his skin. 

Peter fucks him with his fingers like that, leaves Stiles gasping their names as he squirms.  His eyes roll back as pleasure overruns his system.  He hasn’t be touched by them since his concussion, not intimately, and he’s never had someone stretching him open like this.  Has barely even done it himself.  Didn’t even know if he would like it until he was on the brink of insanity, quivering in pleasure as they denied him the release he so desperately craves.

“ _Peter_ ,” he gasps again, clutching at one of Deucalion’s hands.  “ _Let me come_.  Please, I’ve—Please, I can’t—“

Tears slip down his cheeks as his words trail off into a sweet little mewl, Peter’s fingers twisting inside of him.  He bucks, abdomen flexing, and feels something like raw  _need_  ripple through him. 

Deucalion kisses his cheek.  “Are you okay?”

“Ye— _Yes_ ,” Stiles breathes, grateful for the grounding touches Deucalion consistently lays over his skin as Peter ravages him. 

“Can we keep going?” Deucalion asks.  “Or have you really had enough?”

Stiles whimpers.  “I—I don’t—”

Peter hushes him, leaning up to steal a long kiss.  Watching, Deucalion shifts, and he knows Stiles can feel his own arousal through his pants when the boy shudders in their hold. 

Pulling back, Peter curls his fingers again.  Stiles cries out, voice cracking, and his toes curl as his hips rut.  He’s at war with his own urges—seeking pleasure and yet wanting to get away at the same time.

“Do you want to come now, love?” Deucalion asks.

“ _Please_.”

“If we let you come, can we still have fun?” Peter adds, petting over one of Stiles’ trembling thighs.  “Or will that be too much for you?”

Stiles hesitates.  “I don’t—I don’t know.  I want— _I want_ —“

“What do you want?” Peter asks, eyes bright and blue, flitting up to Deucalion’s gaze and then back. 

“You.  Both of you.   _Both of you_.”  Stiles pants, hips rocking up in time with the thrust of Peter’s fingers.  “ _Please.”_

Peter groans.  Jaw flexing, Deucalion tightens his hold on Stiles and gives one sharp shake of his head.  Peter nods with a tight sigh.

“Can’t do that, darling.” Deucalion says.

“Not yet.  Not now.”  Peter continues, but he’s working his fingers down Stiles’ cock, slowly easing the ring off of him.  “You’re not in your right head right now.”

“I am,” Stiles argues, wrecked and writhing, positively breathtaking.  “ _I am_.”

“No,” Deucalion breathes, kissing along his shoulder and biting in order to make him arch.  “We’ll talk about that in the morning.”

Stiles whines, but then Peter is rolling the cock ring all the way off and pressing just right.  He comes with a grunt, spine bowing beautifully for them as he comes over his own stomach.  He bucks through it, and Peter slows as he milks it out of him, only stopping when Stiles finishes spilling out against his own skin.

Moaning, practically delirious, Stiles goes liquid pliant in Deucalion’s arms.  Peter leans up, licking at the come on Stiles’ chest, and Stiles tangles a hand into his hair.  Peter hums and Deucalion lets out a pleased rumble in reply as Stiles’ breath evens.  As their boy settles, Deucalion can smell embarrassment, and he attempts to sooth it with soft touches.  Peter frowns and kisses Stiles for another long moment.

“Stop that,” he tells Stiles after breaking it.  “There’s nothing to be ashamed about when you’re with us.”

Stiles bites the inside of his cheek.  “I shouldn’t have—I shouldn’t have asked—”

“It’s what you want,” Deucalion says.  “There’s nothing wrong with that, love.”

Peter’s grin is crooked.  “Besides.  We make a pretty good team.  I don’t think we’d mind sharing—”

“In the morning, we’ll discuss it.”  Deucalion promises.  “Until then, would you like more?”

Stiles pauses.  There’s another jump of arousal in his scent, and Peter’s grin broadens. 

“Is that—Would you guys like to keep going?”  Stiles asks quietly, voice shaking.

“I could watch you come all night,” Peter says earnestly. 

Licking his lips, Stiles nods.  “Okay.  Gimme a minute.  Or five.”

“Anything you’d like,” Deucalion says.  Peter and him share a meaningful look.  “Anything.”


End file.
